


Closer than Friends

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bodyswap, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28552212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: A truly ridiculous attempt at a barson bodyswap fic. Hopefully it's funny.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 123





	Closer than Friends

Benson woke with a slight headache and squinted up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to figure out why the light seemed… _wrong_. Her alarm hadn’t yet gone off, and she always set a backup on her phone, so she couldn’t have overslept.

She reached up to drag a hand over her face and froze at the feeling of prickly stubble against her palm. Something was terribly wrong with her face, and her heart kicked into double time as she sat up. 

Everything was wrong. She was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, but not ones she recognized. The bed wasn’t hers. The room wasn’t hers. 

The _body_ wasn’t hers.

She slammed the door on her rising panic, cutting it off before it could overwhelm her and rob her of her ability to think. She had to think, had to figure out what was happening. She could remember going to bed the night before. There were no gaps or fuzzy areas in her memory, not that she could find. Aside from the dull headache, she didn’t feel as though she’d been drugged.

 _Noah_.

She swung herself out of bed, her heart slamming in her chest as she tried her best to stay calm and rational. She didn’t recognize the bedroom, but it did feel strangely _familiar._ As soon as she stepped out of the room, she realized why. 

She was in Barba’s apartment. She’d never been inside the bedroom, but she had been to his place. For a moment she thought she could even smell him lingering in the air, but then she realized it was _her_. She could smell him on herself. 

“Noah?” she called, even though she knew he wasn’t there. She started at the sound of Barba’s voice leaving her throat, and her mind tried desperately to shy away from what it had already deduced. She shook her head as though that would change things, but if this was some sort of weird nightmare it felt alarmingly real.

She walked on stiff legs into the bathroom and turned on the light, steeling herself before looking into the mirror.

Rafael Barba, his hair a mess, his face wrinkled from sleep and rough with salt and pepper stubble, stared back at her with familiar green eyes.

“I don’t understand,” she said aloud, wincing at the sound of his voice. She touched her face—his face—feeling the skin under her fingertips, feeling the fingertips against her skin. She pinched roughly at one cheek, hard enough to hurt, but she didn’t wake. She looked down at the body that was both strange and familiar, and she felt the room shift as she swayed on her feet.

 _Noah_ , she thought again, clenching her jaw against the lightheadedness. She couldn’t pass out, she had to figure out what was going on. She hurried unsteadily into the bedroom and grabbed her phone—Barba’s phone—from the nightstand. She faltered for a moment, trying to remember his passcode; she knew it was his mother’s birthday, but her mind blanked.

It didn’t matter. As soon as she touched her thumb to the home button, the phone unlocked. _His thumbprint_ , she thought, but her brain shied away from that, too. She couldn’t make sense of anything yet, and she wasn’t going to try until she made sure her son was safe.

Before she could dial, the phone rang in her hand, startling her so badly she almost dropped it. She saw herself on the screen, and she answered quickly. “Barba?” she asked without thinking.

There was a long pause, and then her own voice spoke to her from the other end of the call: “What the hell is happening?”

“I don’t know. I don’t—Is Noah there? Is he okay?”

“I heard him turn on the TV, I haven’t gone out there. Is this…This is Liv, right? You are…I feel like I’m insane.”

“Don’t do anything to upset Noah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Okay.”

Benson hung up Barba’s phone and hurried out of the room. She shoved her feet into his shoes, grabbed his keys from the table, and let herself out of his apartment. She cursed under her breath as she realized she didn’t have her car, and she fumbled out his phone to order a Lyft.

* * *

Barba stared down at himself, still feeling like he was in shock. Or dreaming. This couldn’t possibly be reality, and he wondered if he’d suffered some sort of head trauma and was in a coma somewhere.

Curiosity had his fingers itching to touch the breasts that were distending the front of the faded old t-shirt he was wearing, the soft swells so unfamiliar in his line of sight that it took all of his willpower to keep his hands away. He reminded himself that they weren’t his to touch, and it didn’t matter if she would never know.

He had to pee, though, and he didn’t think he could wait any longer. The pressure of a full bladder was familiar enough, but his body’s reaction wasn’t. The muscles felt different, the dull burn wasn’t in the right place because there _was_ no right place, his whole dick was gone. 

He’d never peed without it, but he was going to have to figure out how.

He’d been pacing the bedroom, waiting for her to arrive and tell him what the hell was going on, but he finally walked into the bathroom. He avoided looking at the mirror. It had been weird enough the first time. 

After a moment’s hesitation he turned off the light, determined not to get an accidental glimpse of her body even though he knew it shouldn’t be high on his list of concerns. Nothing made sense, but for the time being her body seemed to be his, and he was going to have to be able to see and touch it without guilt.

He pulled down her sweats and sat on the cold toilet seat with a grimace, trying not to think about anything except emptying his bladder. Her bladder. Whosever fucking bladder it was.

As soon as he was finished peeing, he realized he was going to have to wipe. He cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner, but he’d been too focused on the peeing part to consider what would happen afterward. 

He eyed the toilet paper roll in the dim glow from the nightlight, glaring at it as though it had fangs. 

“Don’t be an asshole,” he muttered, but it didn’t help that it was the sound of her voice in his ears. He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and acted quickly, refusing to linger or examine the sensation, swiping hurriedly and standing to yank up the sweats. He flushed and left the bathroom just as there was a knock on the apartment door.

“Mom!” Noah called from the living room. “Someone’s here!”

“That’s…Barba. Uncle Rafael,” he answered through the bedroom door. “Let him in, please.”

“I can’t reach the chain,” Noah said.

“ _Shit_ ,” Barba breathed. He supposed it didn’t matter. To Noah, he would look like Benson. Probably. Barba opened the bedroom door and walked out as normally as he could. Noah was on the couch in his pajamas, watching cartoons, and he barely glanced at Barba. 

Barba crossed to the door and unlocked it quickly, pulling it open to find himself standing on the other side. The sense of unreality almost knocked him off his feet, and he reeled a bit. 

“Liv?” he whispered.

She nodded and stepped past him, her shoulders sagging in relief when she saw Noah in the living room. She grabbed Barba’s arm and started toward the bedroom.

“Mom, can I have pancakes?” Noah asked.

“Not right now, honey,” Benson answered without thinking, cursing herself when she saw the look of confusion cross her son’s face. She squeezed Barba’s arm, shooting him a look, and muttered under her breath: “He can have cereal.”

Barba blinked. “Oh. Right. Um, go ahead and get some cereal,” he told Noah. 

“Your mom and I will be out in a few minutes,” Benson said, pulling Barba into her bedroom and closing the door. 

They stared at each other, fascinated, horrified, curious. 

“This feels too real to be a dream but too crazy to be anything other than a shared delusion,” he said after a few seconds. He reached out a hand and hesitated. “Can I…Jesus, I don’t know if I’m allowed to touch _this_ _body_ or _that_ _body_ —”

“Calm down, you sound hysterical.”

He stared at her. “ _Hysterical_? I _am_ hysterical, what the _fuck happened_ and how do we _unhappen it_?”

“I don’t know,” she said, running her hands through her hair. “I kind of miss having hair this short,” she muttered, turning away from him to start pacing.

“Could you focus?” Then, a moment later: “You had your hair cut that short?”

“Oh, twenty years or so ago,” she answered distractedly. “Okay, we don’t know how this happened.” She looked at him. “Right?”

He put a hand to his chest. “ _Me_?” He jerked his hand away from the breast he’d accidentally touched, grimacing as heat filled his face. “How should I know anything? I went to sleep in my own apartment and woke up here with _these_ ,” he said, gesturing toward his chest.

She glanced at her own breasts across the room and looked quickly away, trying not to think about them as hers. “Well, we do have one pressing issue right now.”

“I’d say all our issues are pressing.”

“I have to…use the bathroom.”

He looked away. “I already did,” he heard himself admit. “But I swear I didn’t see—”

“I can’t think about that right now. But you have to help.”

“What? Help _how_?”

“I don’t know how to do it,” she said, glaring at him.

“ _You know how to piss_ ,” he shot back, trying hard to keep his voice low. “Jesus Christ—” 

“Don’t Jesus Christ me,” she cut in, but he was still talking.

“—you taught your son to do it.” His face was flaming and he couldn’t even fully explain why. They were talking about his body, but he currently had no physical connection to it. 

“ _I don’t know how to do it without touching_ ,” she hissed. 

“ _It’s not like I’ll feel it_ . _Go in the bathroom and_ —”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m _whispering_ ,” he ground out through his teeth. 

“You hold it and I’ll close my eyes.”

“You’re joking, right?” He held up his hands. “You want me to come stand next to you while you piss, hold your—my dick with these, your hands?” 

“I want to stop talking about it and get it over with.”

“I refuse. You have my permission to touch my dick with my own hands.”

“ _Stop saying dick_.”

He made a sound of frustration and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I cannot believe we’re having this conversation.”

“It feels wrong. Please, Rafael. Then we can talk about our next step, but I can’t concentrate on anything else—”

“Fine. _Fine_. But if I do this, _you_ are going to put a bra on this body, understood?”

“Yes,” she said, sounding relieved as she turned toward her bathroom. He trailed after her reluctantly, but he couldn’t help but take the opportunity to watch the way his body moved, the way his ass looked in his sweatpants. “Quit watching me walk, it’s making me self-conscious.”

“I think I’m watching _me_ walk, so it doesn’t count as ogling.”

She laughed in spite of herself, shooting him a look. “Okay,” she said once they were in the bathroom. She walked up to the toilet, grimaced, and closed her eyes. 

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, wiping his hands on his legs before reaching over to tug down the front of her sweats. “I think I should be offended that you’re this reluctant to have anything to do with my—”

“If you say ‘dick’ one more time…”

Barba pressed his lips together. Talking about how awkward and weird the situation was wasn’t going to make it any less awkward and weird. He pulled his own penis out and grimaced as he pointed it toward the toilet. It seemed bigger in her hand. “Hurry up and pee,” he said, trying not to focus on the sight of her fingers wrapped around his dick. 

She sighed softly as the stream of urine finally hit the water. “That was starting to hurt,” she breathed.

“I’m old, I have to piss in the morning,” he said, and she laughed as she cracked an eye to look sideways at him. 

“So that’s what I look like when I blush.”

“If I wake up from this dream, I’m never telling you about it.” He gave her dick a little shake out of habit. “And if this is a shared hallucination, _neither_ of us is ever—”

“Uh-oh, what’s happening?” she asked, looking down in sudden alarm.

“So much for not looking,” he said, quickly stuffing her penis—his penis— _their_ penis back into her pants before it could grow any harder in his hand. 

“Is that—Why is it—”

“You know how this works.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything sexual!”

“You don’t have to. A woman wraps her hand around it in the morning and it’s gonna respond.”

“God, isn’t it connected to your brain at _all_?”

He glared at her. “It’ll go away soon if you don’t play with it or think dirty thoughts. Could we move on to something else? Like the fact that I’m supposed to be in court in two hours and I can’t exactly go looking like this?”

“Get a continuance.”

“There’s not a chance the judge will grant a continuance without a good reason, and I don’t have one that she’ll believe. Stop it,” he snapped, watching her pluck at the front of her sweats while he followed her out of the bathroom. 

“How do you walk like this?”

“It’s one more witness and a closing argument. I’ll write down what you need to say.”

“I can’t go to court,” she said, whirling toward him as she realized what he was saying. 

“You could handle the questioning but not the cross-examination, you wouldn’t know when to object,” he said, starting to pace the floor in agitation. “Maybe I could go and give you signals, but if the judge—”

“I have to go to work.”

“Call in. Or, I guess I’ll call in, as you.”

“I can’t. We’re too short-staffed as it is. I have to go, or you have to go. Lucy’s going to be here in half an hour.”

“This is a disaster.”

“Can’t someone fill in for you?”

“Hand off to another lawyer for closing?” He shook his head. “Maybe co-counsel.” He turned to face her. “If you don’t know how to fix whatever this is, we’re going to have to make an attempt to do what needs to be done this morning. Which means we need to get this body dressed and then get back to my apartment and get that body dressed. We can try to figure out a plan on the way.”

“Right,” she agreed, looking him over. “I’ve never put a bra onto another person before.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve only taken them off,” he countered. He gestured toward his chest. “And I’m not touching these until you’re back—” He cut himself off abruptly and cleared his throat. “I won’t look. Let’s just get it over with.”

She went to her dresser and got a pair of underwear, tossing them to him. “You’ll have to put these on, though.”

He groaned as he glanced down at the panties, but he turned his back to her full-length mirror and stripped out of the sweatpants, quickly pulling on the underwear and, a moment later, the slacks she handed him. At her nod, he stripped his shirt up and off, keeping his eyes focused on the far wall as she slipped the straps up his arms, adjusted his breasts into the cups, and fastened the hooks behind his back. 

“I didn’t know my face could get that red,” she murmured.

“I’ve never been so glad not to have to worry about that,” he said with a pointed glance toward the semi-erection she was sporting.

“Mom!” Noah yelled from the other room.

“Just a minute!” she answered before grimacing.

Noting her frustrated look, Barba called, “What do you need?”

“Can I have chocolate milk?”

“Did you eat cereal?” Barba asked.

“Not yet.”

“Then no,” Barba answered without waiting for Benson’s answer, and she laughed quietly. “Please give me a shirt,” he said, holding out a hand and quickly pulling the blouse over his head before fastening the few buttons that were undone. 

“You need makeup.”

“No. You need to shave.”

“There’s no time—but I can’t go to work like that, I look terrible.”

“You couldn’t look terrible if you tried,” he countered. “And if you’re not shaving then I’m not wearing makeup.” 

“Fine, but be prepared to hear people telling you all morning that you look tired or asking if you’re sick.”

“I’ll assume they’re idiots and ignore them,” he said, earning a smile from her. “Can I tie this back or something, though?” he asked, gesturing to the tangles of hair around his face. 

“Come on, I’ll take care of it. Listen, before Lucy gets here. When we leave you need to tell Noah you’ll see him after work, to be good, and that you love him, and tell Lucy you should be home a little early and then thank her.”

“Got it.”

* * *

“Sonny! I’ve been looking for you,” Benson said, relieved to see him just as she started to leave his office.

“Barba?” he asked with a frown. “What’re you—Is everything okay?”

“I need your help,” she said. “Can you come to court with me? I need you to question the last witness and object during cross.”

He stared at her for several seconds with his forehead knitted in confusion. “Why?”

“I can’t explain,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “Please, Sonny. It shouldn’t take very long.”

“Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Look, I have the questions written down, and the closing statement.”

“Is this a joke?”

“No, why would you think—”

“You never call me Sonny, you certainly never beg me for help. If this is a prank…”

“I can’t explain, but I really need your help. Please, I can’t blow this case and I don’t know who else to ask, who else I can trust.”

Carisi regarded her in silence for long moments. “You’re not going to tell me why?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I tried.”

“Fine,” he agreed, and she was so relieved that she pulled him into a hug before she could think about what she was doing.

“Um. You sure you’re okay, Rafael?” he asked, patting awkwardly at her shoulder.

“Sorry,” she said, drawing back and smoothing his blazer. “Let’s go meet up with the vic.”

“Client,” he corrected.

“Right,” she agreed, studiously ignoring the way he was looking at her as they started walking. 

“You growing a beard?”

“Not really, no.”

“Huh.”

* * *

“Liv?”

Barba looked up, startled as Rollins appeared in the office doorway. “Yeah. Yes.”

“There’s a young woman out here who wants to make a statement.”

“Can you, um…”

“She says she’ll only disclose to you. She got your name from a friend, she said.”

Barba chewed his lip, glancing around the room for something, anything he could use as an excuse to get out of talking to a potential assault victim. He wasn’t qualified to do Benson’s job, and pretending to be her was an unfathomable violation of trust. “I don’t think I should—”

“She’s pretty antsy,” Rollins said. “Get the feeling she might bolt.”

Barba glanced at the clock on the wall. He’d managed to keep his head down all morning, and he’d begun to think he might survive the whole day without screwing something up. But talking to an assault victim? He was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

“Sit in with us. If, um, if she’s alright with that.”

“Sure,” Rollins said. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” Barba lied, taking a deep breath to brace himself for the coming conversation. _What would Liv do?_ he thought, but the answer to that was easy enough.

_Listen. Empathize. Reassure. Listen._

* * *

“Is that...Is Barba driving your car? Does he even have a license?” Rollins asked

“Oh, um, yeah it’s fine,” he answered, hoping she wouldn’t press the issue or, god forbid, actually check into it. “Thanks, Rollins—Amanda—um. See you tomorrow…”

“Are you two officially an item, yet?” she asked, and he faltered as he’d started to turn away. 

“What?”

She laughed. “You don’t have to tell me.” She held up a hand. “I just think he should make his move before it’s too late.”

“I want him to… _make a move_?” Barba asked uncertainly, glancing toward the waiting car.

“I’m sorry, Liv, I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“No, no, it’s…it’s fine, I just…didn’t realize I was, um, putting that out there.”

“Well it’s not like it’s obvious to everyone that you’re pining,” Rollins said, looking worried that she might’ve offended Benson. “We’re friends, I know how much you care about him, is all.”

“Pining?” Barba mused quietly.

“And the way he looks at you is the same way he looks at food, and you know that man loves food.”

Barba laughed, covering his face with a hand as heat flooded his cheeks. “So it’s obvious when I—when he looks at me—”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Liv, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” he repeated, but then, before he could stop himself, he looked at her and asked: “Do you think I should…” He paused to gather his courage, suddenly terrified of the answer. “If he were to _make a move_ , do you think we’d be good for each other?”

“You asking me for relationship advice?” she asked with a skeptical look. She considered. “I mean, he’s your best friend, right? And he clearly worships you.”

“Does he.”

“Come on, Liv, he’s been wrapped around your finger since the day we all met, you know he’d move heaven and earth if you asked.”

“All that arguing these past years?”

“Foreplay’s different for everyone,” she said, surprising him into another laugh. His stomach was a bundle of nerves, his face hot with embarrassment, but most of his discomfort eased when he looked toward the waiting car. He had no idea what was happening or why, or how long it would last, but he knew one thing for sure: there was no one else with whom he’d rather face _anything_. 

“Maybe you’ve got a point,” he said absently. “I’d take on the world with her.”

“Her, who?” Rollins asked, looking confused when he glanced back at her. 

“With him. Sorry, I have to go. See you tomorrow,” he added, hoping he wouldn’t. He left her behind and walked quickly toward the car, ignoring the weird prickle across his nape at the sight of himself sitting behind the steering wheel, peering through the window impatiently. 

“What were you two talking about?” Benson asked as soon as Barba had dropped into the passenger seat and closed the door.

“Me, as a matter of fact,” he said, buckling his seatbelt. “You. Us. Whatever.”

“You didn’t tell her—”

“I mean the regular us, not _this_ us. She apparently thinks you have the hots for me.”

“ _Hots_?” she repeated incredulously, staring at him.

“It’s odd seeing my own face looking at me like I’m insane. Anyway, don’t worry. She also thinks I worship the ground you walk on.”

“Hmm,” Benson answered as she turned her attention to pulling the car out into traffic. “Well that much is true.”

He laughed, nodding as he looked down at his lap. “Mmhm.” He picked a piece of lint from his slacks and dropped it to the floor. 

She drove in silence for a minute before asking, “She didn’t really use the word ‘hots,’ did she?”

“No. She said you were pining. And that I look at you the way I look at food.”

“But you _love_ food.”

“Jesus,” he laughed, looking at her, “I know I put on a few pounds—it’s even more obvious from over here—but I do _not_ look at food the same way I look at you.”

“You’d better not be commenting on my weight.”

He blinked. “My—”

“Not as long as I’m in this body, it’s not.”

He mulled that over in silence for a few seconds because he had no idea how to respond. “I’m afraid to ask how it went in court.”

“We won.”

“I know.” He studied her profile. “I can’t thank you enough for going.” She’d texted him when the verdict came down, but hadn’t given any more details. “Carisi called me. Asked if I knew if anything was wrong with…me. Said I begged for his help and then hugged him—twice.”

She grimaced, turning at the intersection. “Sorry.”

“I think he thinks I have terminal cancer or something. I assured him everything was fine. But we can’t keep doing this.”

“I know.” 

“I cannot do your job. I’ve never for a moment of my life thought I could but now I _know_ I can’t, no one can do this but you.”

“Today wasn’t a walk in the park for me, either. Just because you make your job look easy doesn’t mean I thought it was.”

He raised his eyebrows and reached out to finger lightly at the gray hair at her temples. “I make it look easy?” he asked, sounding amused despite the seriousness of the situation. “Is that why I have this?” He looked her over with a small sigh. “Boy, does that look like a lot more gray from over here. I look so old.”

“You do not,” she countered. “Stop insulting this body.”

“You know I’m talking about myself.”

“That doesn’t make it better. If you’re looking at yourself through my eyes you should try to see yourself the way I do.”

“How’s that?”

“Ask Rollins,” she said, shooting him a sidelong look that made him grin. “Do I want to know how today went for you?”

“If you’re asking how many people commented on the lack of makeup, I refuse to answer but I never realized how many assholes and idiots you have to work with every day.” He paused and sighed. “I did have to take a statement from a woman who was assaulted.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“I know you told me to stay in the office and relegate, but—”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay, but I know we were both doing our best today.”

“She got your name from another survivor, a sex worker named Candace? She would only disclose to you. I asked Rollins to join, though, let her handle most of the questions. I don’t think I fucked things up but Jesus, Liv, I don’t know how you do it.”

“You’ve heard horrible things,” she said quietly, sending him a sympathetic look as she made another turn.

“Yes, and I’ve made people share their traumas…” He gave his head a little shake to dislodge the shadows from his thoughts. “But knowing I was the first person she was telling her story to, that she was trusting me to help…”

“They trust you, too. You usually come in a little later but we’re links on the same chain.”

“They trust me because you tell them to.”

“You’re underestimating yourself.” She ran a hand over her face and grimaced at the beard growth. “We need to do something about this,” she said, gesturing toward her jaw. “I’m getting used to the rest of it but I don’t like the beard.”

“Don’t get used to it, I want it back.”

“You don’t want my body?” she teased, shooting him an amused look.

“I don’t want to be _inside_ your—” He cleared his throat. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Interesting that you felt the need to clarify, though.”

“Which reminds me, I’m starving. Rollins brought me a salad for lunch. A salad. All day. I only had two bucks for the vending machines and you don’t even have snacks in your office. You have mints. _Mints_ , Olivia. How do you make it through the day?” He paused, noting the way she was looking at him. “What?”

“Nothing. We’ll get takeout, Noah’ll be happy.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know. You obviously have to stay at my place, Noah thinks you’re me.”

“Okay, well we need to stop by my apartment to get clothes for you. And my razor. Did you reschedule everything?”

“I did. And luckily we both have tomorrow off. But if we don’t figure this out…”

“I know.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, amazed by the smoothness of the skin against his palms. “What’re we supposed to do? Find a witch? Hold hands and make a wish at the same time? Try to get struck by lightning?”

“It happened while we were sleeping. Maybe it’ll fix itself. I spent all my time outside of court Googling and I couldn’t find anything except movies. I don’t know any more than you do, Barba.”

“I know,” he repeated. “I tried, too.” He stared out the windshield for a minute, trying not to think about what would happen if they didn’t switch back. “Did anything else happen today? After court?”

“Everyone thought I was insane for reading the closing argument.”

“And crying, from what I hear.”

“I did not cry. Maybe I got a little emotional but you can’t claim you haven’t, I’ve seen you.”

“I’ve never hugged Carisi after a verdict and told him I would’ve been lost without him.”

“I already apologized for that, but there’s nothing wrong with you expressing gratitude and affection for a friend.”

“Gratitude and affection.”

“If this continues, we might end up having to tell people. And I trust my squad, including Carisi.”

“Great. My mother’ll be thrilled, she always wanted a daughter.”

“That’s not funny.”

“No? It’s a little funny.”

She shot him an exasperated look. “And we need to make sure we don’t freak Noah out. Think of a good reason you’re sleeping over.” 

“Noah, honey, the truth is I just couldn’t resist Uncle Barba anymore, it’s been so hard pretending—”

“He doesn’t call you Uncle Barba and you know it, smartass.”

Barba laughed. “No, because you taught him the ridiculous nickname that no one else has ever called me.”

“If you hate it so much, why didn’t you ask me to stop?”

“I said it was ridiculous, not that I hate it. Anyway, nothing else happened today?”

“I tried to keep a low profile. Waited in your office for the verdict…” She trailed off, shooting him a suspicious look. “Why, what else did Carisi say?”

“Oh, nothing…except that you walked into the women’s bathroom.”

She sighed. “Barely. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“But you did go to the bathroom by yourself? Liv, I’m so proud.”

“Standing at a urinal beside Carisi? Not a chance. I told him I’d eaten something bad and to go on ahead and then I hid out in a stall for an hour. He was concerned. I’m really not surprised he called me about you. But it was nice of him not to mention that part.”

Barba stared at her in horror. “Are you joking?”

“Unfortunately, no. Oh, and your mom called. She wanted to have dinner with you tomorrow but I said you had a date. Sorry. I didn’t know of another excuse to postpone.”

“What did she say?” he asked, even more horrified.

“She wanted to know details but I told her I had to get back to court.”

“God.”

“It’s not that bad,” she said as she parked the car. “I told her it was a date, not that you were getting married.”

“I’m not sure she sees the distinction.”

“If she calls back, want me to tell her it’s just a casual hookup?” 

“Hilarious.”

“Booty call? One night stand? I’m not sure what term you prefer when talking to your mother.”

“Tonight when Noah asks me how much ice cream he’s allowed to have for dessert, did you want me to say four scoops or five? And you did say he’s allowed to watch R-rated movies before bed, right?”

“He’ll be sleeping with you if he has nightmares, I’ll be on the sofa.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not kicking you out of your own bed,” he countered. 

“We can figure that out later. Let’s get inside and get whatever you need—I need for tonight and tomorrow, and then we’ll grab dinner. This stomach is making obscene noises.”

“You haven’t fed it properly,” he accused, reaching for his door handle.

“Rafael,” she said, stopping him with a hand on his arm. He looked back at her. It was his face regarding him, but he could see her emotions shining in his green eyes. “Thank you,” she finally said after a few moments. “This whole situation is a nightmare, but I don’t know what I would do if we weren’t in it together.”

He nodded. “Ditto,” he said quietly. 

* * *

“How was your day—” Benson started, but she cut herself off before she called Noah _honey_ or _sweetheart_ again. 

“Good,” Noah answered. He didn’t seem to think it was odd that Uncle Rafa was asking him questions about his day. In fact, he was excited to tell ‘Barba’ all about his trip to the park and the giant slug he’d found there, and how he’d played tag with a group of older boys because they were short a team member. After he’d rambled on about his day, he looked over at Barba and asked: “Mom, can me and Uncle Rafa have ice cream?”

Barba and Benson exchanged a look, and he had to duck his head to hide his smile. Noah was staring at him, though, waiting for his response, so he cleared his throat. “Sure, but let Uncle Rafa serve it, alright? And then you probably need to take a bath or something before bed?” he added, glancing at Benson for confirmation.

Noah looked at Benson, too, and said, “Uncle Raf, will you read me a story before you leave?”

“I’d love to read you something but I’m actually sleeping here tonight,” she said.

“You are?” Noah straightened, his face lighting with excitement. “How come?”

“Let’s go get that ice cream,” she said, and to her relief Noah didn’t push the issue, apparently happy enough in the knowledge that Barba was staying over without needing to know why.

* * *

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Noah said as Barba looked down at the melted ice cream spilled down the front of his shirt and pants. Noah, who’d been snuggled up against Barba’s side—against his mother’s side, as far as the boy knew—had been too absorbed in the movie to notice that his ice cream was becoming a mess of chocolate soup, and when a loud scene made him jump he dropped the bowl in his mother’s lap.

“It’s okay,” Barba muttered distractedly. He’d been trying his best not to think about the fact that he and Benson were going to have to change their clothes before turning in for the night, but now that deadline had been pushed up. Not only was he going to have to change, he was going to have to clean up. He could feel the cold and sticky liquid soaking through his clothes.

“Go get cleaned up and brush your teeth, we’ll skip the bath tonight because it’s already late,” Benson said, and Noah divided a confused look between the two adults. After a moment’s hesitation he headed toward the bathroom, leaving them alone in the living room.

Barba got carefully to his feet, making sure he didn’t get any chocolate ice cream on the sofa. He was holding Noah’s bowl, but Benson took it from his hand. “How do you want me to handle this?”

“You should probably take a shower,” she said apologetically.

“I can’t.”

“We have to just…deal with the situation we’re in. I know you want to be respectful of my privacy, but I’ve already touched this body in ways I didn’t want to have to do without your permission and the fact of the matter is, we trust each other enough—hopefully—to not worry constantly about what we’re doing. Like you said this morning, I won’t feel it, I won’t know what you’re doing. For now that body is yours and this is mine. We have to deal with that. Shower or clean up with cloth, it’s up to you.”

“Fine. But there are things I refuse to touch so you’ll just have to do a thorough cleaning when we’ve switched back.”

She laughed. “Come on,” she teased, “I know you’re curious.”

“Curious, yes. Enough to be a creep? No.”

“I love you for that, Rafa, I really do,” she said, starting to reach a hand toward his chest. She stopped, eyeing his breasts, and mused, “I’m not sure I can touch you like I normally would.”

“Oh, wait, I can—” he said, reaching out and laying a hand over her heart like she’d done countless times to him during their friendship. He immediately pulled his hand away, though. “Nope, sorry, that was really weird.”

“This whole thing is weird. Go get cleaned up and changed while I put Noah to bed but don’t forget you’ll have to go in and kiss him goodnight, as me. And then you’ll have to help me shave this stubble or I won’t be able to sleep.”

He nodded. “I don’t have to shave anything on here, do I?”

“No,” she laughed. “But make sure you use conditioner on my hair.”

* * *

“This is very strange,” he murmured, using his thumb and forefinger on her chin to gently turn her face a little. “It’s almost like shaving myself, only…backwards. And I can’t feel it.” 

“So how was your shower?” she asked after a few moments of silence, and his gaze ticked up to hers before dropping back to the electric razor he was using to clear the stubble from her jaw. 

“You want to talk about that now?” They were standing very close together in the bathroom, and the steam from his shower was still fogging part of the mirror. Noah was asleep, and the apartment was silent except for their mingled breaths in the small room.

“You don’t have to tell me. It’s just…interesting, learning how different things feel. Something you think you understand and then you realize it’s not how you imagined at all, really.”

“Mmhm,” he agreed, concentrating on shaving her face.

“I’m surprised by how sensitive your nipples are.”

“Jesus,” he breathed, his hand faltering in surprise as his gaze met hers. 

“I’m sorry. I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t want to make _you_ uncomfortable.”

“We’re both going through the same thing, here. I guess I want to be able to talk about it with you.”

“You can talk to me—You can always talk to me.”

“It’s embarrassing, I know. And weird. And terrifying if we think about what’ll happen if we wake up tomorrow like this…” She sighed softly. “But it’s also…” 

“Interesting,” he said softly, using her word from a minute ago. “Believe me, Liv, I want to be able to talk to you, too. If it didn’t feel like any consent you give is tainted because we have no control over this situation, maybe it wouldn’t feel quite so gross for me to be feeling your body up in the shower.”

She smiled. “I told you, for now it’s your body.”

“Well, then, it’s very strange to suddenly be attracted to my body,” he said. “When I was in that one, I never had any desire to look at myself and right now it’s all I want to do. How do you ever leave the mirror in the morning when you look like this?”

Her smile tightened a little and her gaze dropped away from his. “I’m sorry you had to see the scars. I don’t always think about how many there are until I start to undress in front of someone for the first time.”

“They don’t hurt,” he said. 

Her eyes slid back up to his. “You touched them?”

“I had to know how they felt. Had to know they don’t still cause you any physical pain. I wish me being in this body could take the memories from you, too.”

“I’m only sorry you have to see how ugly they are.”

“Liv, I would never lie to you.” 

“I know,” she said when it became apparent he wasn’t going to continue until she’d acknowledged that statement.

“So believe me when I say, nothing on this body is ugly. Nothing of you could ever be.” 

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“Must be a shock for you, looking down to see love handles and hair everywhere.” 

“You do have a lot more hair than I expected,” she said, and he laughed. “But I like it. I mean, for you. Speaking of hair, we need to blow dry yours or it’ll be awful in the morning.”

“Right, okay, I’m almost done,” he said, turning his attention back to shaving her jaw. 

“And you don’t have to sleep on the couch. We can share the bed.”

He smiled. “Maybe proximity will help switch us back?”

“Maybe. Maybe I don’t want to be alone.”

“Whatever happens, we’re in this together,” he promised.

* * *

“What do we do if we wake up like this?” Benson asked. She was lying on her side facing Barba.

“I don’t know.” He was on his back, staring up at the ceiling, but he cast her a sidelong look and a small smile. “Usually if the world was crumbling around me, I’d come to you. And I wish…” He trailed off with a sigh, looking up at the dark ceiling. 

She reached out and slipped her fingers between his, letting their joined hands rest on his stomach. “I wish I could look at you,” she murmured.

“Exactly. I know it’s you but all I see is myself. And I always figured if you invited me into your bed it would be…you and me. That sounds stupid, because it _is_ us, but—”

“No, I get it.” They lapsed into silence for a minute. “Were you just waiting around for an invitation?” she finally asked quietly.

He smiled. “You know what I mean.”

“But you have thought about it.”

He turned his head to look at her. “Seriously? You know that, right?”

“That you wanted to sleep with me?” she teased.

“I’m a patient man, Liv.” He smiled at her skeptical look. “When it comes to you. I’m content with being your someday.”

“Someday,” she murmured.

“If I can be your friend, confidante—”

“I don’t want someday,” she whispered, and he fell silent. “While we wait for the timing to be right, our lives are slipping past, lives we could be spending together. I’m tired of losing time with you, Rafael, so if you need an invitation then consider this it. My life is messy and complicated, but without you in it—”

“Liv,” he said, and it was her turn to lapse into silence. He sighed. “I really want to kiss you but I’ve never had a desire to kiss myself. All those times I kissed my own reflection were only for practice.”

She laughed quietly. “As a kid?”

“Last week,” he said, and she laughed again. He rolled onto his side to face her. “Maybe if we close our eyes.”

“That’s a good idea,” she whispered. 

They both closed their eyes and he shifted closer; he felt her moving toward him, and their lips found each other in the darkness. “First try, how’s that for aim,” he murmured against her mouth, and her lips curved into a smile against his. He shifted even closer and licked tentatively into her mouth, trying not to think about the fact that it was his own tongue he was meeting.

It was still _them_ ; his mouth and hers.

“Liv,” he breathed, drawing back far enough to lean his forehead against hers. “Part of me hopes I wake up to find out this was all some long, strange dream or delusion. But the other part of me is grateful we got this push, like the universe was sick of us wasting our time, too.”

“When we wake up and everything is back to normal, we can do this the right way.”

“That’ll be nice,” he murmured. “And we’ll already know a few things we wouldn’t have.”

“Goodnight, Rafa.”

“Goodnight, Liv,” he said, tipping his chin to press a soft kiss against her lips before settling into the pillow.

* * *

When she woke, she was facing away from him, snuggled back against his body with his arm wrapped around her and one of his legs tucked between hers. It was still dark, and the alarm clock on the nightstand said it was just past three.

She knew immediately that they were still in the wrong bodies. She could feel the soft breasts against her back, and when he stirred and breathed against her neck, her body responded. She closed her eyes as she felt the erection stirring to life in her sweats, unsure exactly how to stop it. 

“Shit,” he muttered as he drifted to consciousness and realized, as she had, that they were still switched.

“Yeah,” she answered.

He sighed, but the puff of hot air against her neck did nothing to alleviate her body’s desire. “So much for hoping it would correct itself.”

“There has to be a reason, something we haven’t thought of. Something caused this, we just need to figure out what so we can reverse it. Google wasn’t any help, maybe we need to try something less conventional. Find a fortune teller or something.”

“You don’t believe in that, do you?”

“I don’t believe in whatever this is, but it happened.”

“Fair enough. We’ll hit the streets at dawn.”

She smiled at his choice of words, and after a moment she shifted away so she could roll onto her back. He drew his arm and leg away but stayed on his side, watching her. “Can you tell me how to get rid of this?” she asked, and his gaze slid down her body to the tented blanket and back up to her face. 

“Liv, I think you know the answer to that,” he said, sounding amused. When she didn’t immediately answer, he added, “That was a joke. Sorry. It’ll go away like it did the last time.”

“Except this time I was thinking dirty thoughts.”

“It might take longer, then.”

“Since we’re still stuck like this, maybe we could…”

“Use it as a learning experience?”

“Yes.”

“Get to know each other’s bodies for when we change back.”

“And…I’m trying so hard not to panic but the truth is…I want to forget about the fear and just _feel_ for a few minutes, feel connected to you.”

“It’s you and me here, Liv,” he said softly, stroking a thumb over her jaw. “No matter what, that won’t change. You and me.”

She pushed herself up and pulled her shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor, and after a moment he did the same. They stripped out of the rest of their clothes in silence, their movements unhurried, and settled back onto their sides. “This is weird,” she said.

“Weird,” he agreed. “But nice.”

She hummed in agreement because she knew what he meant. There was none of the awkwardness that came from worrying about what the other person would think about their body. She leaned in for a kiss and he met her halfway, brushing his lips against hers. He ran a hand over her hip, pushing gently to urge her onto her back, and she obliged without complaint. 

“I’d offer oral, but…to be honest it’s a little weird knowing it’s mine. Every boy might’ve tried to suck himself off at some point but few succeeded.”

“I feel the same way,” she admitted. 

“However…” He laid a hand on her thigh. “May I?” 

She nodded, spreading her legs a little further when he slipped his hand between them. He cupped his palm beneath her balls and she felt them tighten in his hand. A moment later he fingered gently behind and she twitched in surprise, making a small sound.

“Good, right?” he asked with a smile.

“Ooh, I like it.”

“Also.” He shifted, wrapping the fingers of his other hand around her cock in a loose fist. He stroked upward slowly, brushing his thumb over her crown and through the precum already welling in her slit. Her erection twitched in his hand and she made another sound, her back arching off the bed as she shifted her legs. “There are some advantages to knowing exactly what the other person is feeling.” He ducked his head and flicked his tongue against one flat nipple. “Knowing exactly how to make you feel the most pleasure.”

She reached her hand between his legs. “Can I?”

“Mmhm.” He bent one leg up to give her better access, unsure what to expect. When she dragged two fingers over his opening, the heavy ache of desire made him want to push against her hand—but a moment later she slid her slick fingers over his clit and his hips bucked toward her. “God,” he breathed. His eyes slipped closed as she massaged in gentle circles for several seconds, and he could feel the pressure building as heat spread outward from her touch. 

“It’s not so different,” she mused.

“No,” he agreed, opening his eyes to look at her as her fingers stopped moving. “Except I’m not sure I really understood that the intercourse doesn’t matter as much for you.”

“It matters for other reasons,” she said. She shifted up and over him, pushing him onto his back to cover his body with hers. “To feel connected. Joined…To feel you come apart inside me. You know.” 

“I’ve never felt more connected to anyone in my life.”

“I want to know how it feels for you. Is it okay if we do this?”

“Yes.”

“Do I need protection?”

“That’s your decision to make for this body.”

“I want to feel everything.”

“Me, too,” he whispered. “I love you, Liv. I always have.”

She kissed him again, sliding a hand between his legs to feel her way. “I’ve never been on this end of things,” she said, and he smiled against her lips. 

“We’re learning as we go.”

She entered him slowly, sighing at how good it felt to sink into the soft, slick sheath of his body. He wrapped a leg around her, humming quietly as she filled him. 

“Christ,” he said after a few seconds.

“Yeah,” she agreed, slanting her mouth over his for another kiss as she moved her hips in experimentation. The feeling was overwhelming, both familiar and foreign, and she could feel the orgasm building—could feel her testicles drawing up tight, the heat climbing up her cock, the tingles spreading through her skin.

She reached between them and thumbed his clit, swallowing his hoarse cry as his body shuddered beneath hers. She flexed her hips, awkwardly at first until she found something of a rhythm. He was tightening around her, shifting restlessly as she carried him through his climax.

“Liv,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her to pull their bodies tight. She rocked her hips, marveling at how perfectly their bodies fit together. 

She gasped as she felt her body release itself inside of him, as her cock throbbed and spilled hot pulse after pulse of semen. Barba tightened reflexively around her, his body spasming and clenching, and for a moment the room seemed to spin around them. 

She froze, suddenly disoriented as she looked up at Barba’s face. 

_Barba’s_ face. She felt a little queasy and her head thudded dully, but her skin was still tingling from climax and Barba was buried deep inside of her.

He blinked, clearly as confused as she was as he stared down at her. “Liv?”

“Yes,” she said, so relieved that they were themselves again that she grabbed his head to pull him down for a kiss. He shifted his hips, slowly and carefully withdrawing from her body without moving his lips from hers, and he sank down against her as their hearts gradually slowed back to normal. “I love you,” she said against his mouth, holding onto his hair like she was afraid he was going to disappear.

After a few moments he rolled onto his side, taking her with him, and pulled her into his arms. The sweat was drying on their bodies. “It's so nice to feel _you_."

“That’s not going to happen if we have sex again, is it?”

He considered. “I’m willing to take the risk,” he said, grinning when she smothered her laugh against his bare shoulder.

* * *

Benson was in the kitchen making breakfast when Barba walked out of her bedroom, still in his pajamas, to find Noah standing there staring at him. Barba did his best to hide his surprise, but Noah seemed excited to see him.

“It worked?” the boy asked as Barba walked into the living room..

“What worked, honey?” Benson answered, turning to look at them. 

“My wish!” Noah said. “From the wizard machine!”

“I don’t…” She trailed off, though, because she suddenly remembered him asking for a dollar for the ‘wish’ machine at Coney Island. “What exactly did you wish, Noah?”

The boy glanced from her to Barba and back again, some of his excitement fading. “I don’t wanna say in case it spoils it.”

“Nothing will be spoiled, honey, please tell me what you asked for.” She walked into the living room to stand next to her son.

“I wished you and Uncle Rafa would be closer than friends.”

She looked over at Barba, who snorted softly. “Well,” he said after a moment, “technically I’d say that worked, but maybe we should discuss semantics before making any future wishes.” He raised his brows at her when she didn’t laugh.

“Where’d you hear that expression?” Benson asked Noah. “What do you mean, closer than friends?”

“When we were at the park and Uncle Rafa met us to go to lunch, that lady asked if he was your boyfriend and you said he was just a friend but she said he looked like he wanted to be closer than friends.”

“I need to start wearing sunglasses,” Barba muttered. 

“Sweetheart, relationships are more complicated than that, you can’t simply make a wish…” 

“But he slept in your room, right?”

She reached out to brush Noah’s curls from his forehead. “You used your wish on us? How come?”

“I don’t want Uncle Rafa to leave again. If you get married, he can stay here all the time.”

“Hey,” Barba said, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Noah, I’m not leaving again. I promise. You don’t have to worry about that, or about us. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Go play for a few minutes until breakfast is ready,” Benson said, and she watched Noah head back toward his bedroom. She looked at Barba and gestured, and he followed her into the kitchen. “Do you really think that’s it?” she asked in a low voice.

“I don’t know what to think, but it’s as good an explanation as anything.”

“Maybe we should go check it out after breakfast.”

“Sure.” He paused, studying her for a moment. “You know that even if that wish made us switch places, it didn’t affect the way I feel about you, right?”

“Oh, I know,” she said, stepping forward to kiss him. “You have the hots for me.”

“No,” he laughed, “ _you_ have the hots for _me_. I’m the one who worships the ground you walk on.”

“Wait, you don’t have the hots for me?”

Grinning, he said, “Always.”


End file.
